Escape
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: This is a one shot insert between 623 and 701. It tells what happened while Castle was gone, how he got shot, why and how his memory was really wiped, where the tent came from, and how he ended up in the boat. It incorporates elements from elements from Sleeper and XX. Of course I own nothing.


Escape

Castle was going home, home to Kate, home to pick up the pieces of what should have been wedded bliss. Close to death, Bilal had been taken away by medics in a helicopter. Castle's team had fought off one more ambush on the way to the airfield but not before a bullet had burned its way across Castle's ribs. One of his teammates had hastily applied a field dressing. A line of fire still streaked across his chest, but Castle didn't care. A transport was waiting on the hidden runway to get him out of Thailand. That was all that mattered.

He was grateful for the water and even more grateful for the beer he was handed on the journey home, even if the lack of such niceties as a lavatory meant peeing in a bottle. He never would have thought he could sleep in something like the webbing they called a seat, especially with the pain still radiating from his wound, but his eyes began to close in a face still stained with camouflage makeup.

Something was wrong. The plane was supposed to take him back to New York, but the voices he heard spoke French, not the kind of French he'd heard in Paris, but more like hockey players, minus the epithets. He was in Quebec somewhere. Why would a plane from a U.S. covert op bring him to Canada? It made no sense.

He tried to ask the young bearded mission leader, but he couldn't make his mouth work, or his arms or legs. He could only question with his eyes. A question that was clearly understood nonetheless.

"I know you thought you were going home, Rick. I thought so too, but I've received new orders - orders from way above my pay grade. You have knowledge on another matter and it's necessary that you be debriefed."

The metal chair was hard against Castle's back, his arms and legs were restrained and an IV ran into one arm, delivering something that made him woozy and nauseous. The questions came like lashes, battering at his consciousness. What had Kate found out in the AG's office? Did she know who the mole was? He didn't know. The only AG case he knew about besides a murder in New York, was one that had nearly gotten him killed. Castle insisted over and over that Kate had told him nothing, but they kept asking. The doses of the drugs grew higher until he could barely breathe without retching. He wanted to sleep, but they played loud music and flashed bright lights in his face, preventing even that respite.

Finally a small balding man in a three thousand dollar suit came in. "He doesn't know anything. If he did he would have spilled his guts by now. Just take care of him. Take care of all of it."

"The team leader, now looking even worse for wear than he did in Thailand, looked down at Castle with sympathy. "We can't just send you home now. The big boys refuse to take the chance that you'll reveal what happened here, even by proxy in the pages of a Derrick Storm book. But we can't just make you disappear permanently either. Your fiancée launched a publicity campaign and an international investigation to find you and she refuses to let it go. So there's only one way we can let you out of this. We'll have to wipe your memory and make it look like you got a case of cold feet about your wedding."

"No!" Castle protested. "You can't make Kate believe that! You can't make my family believe that! That I would just up and leave? It's bad enough that you tortured me. Do you have to torture them as well?"

"Rick, we'll find a way to give them some comfort, but it's either that or we stage a murder kidnapping. I'm very sorry, but I have no choice."

"There were more drugs, different ones, and a voice telling him what to remember, what to forget. The days stretched until time no longer had meaning.

Castle was in a tent somewhere and men were pressing his hands to newspapers and supplies strewn across the fabric floor. His clothes were there, his watch, even his wedding tuxedo had been shoved into a duffel bag. His mind was fuzzy, and his thoughts were unraveling more by the minute, but he held on to one thing. He couldn't let this happen. He needed to escape. Kate, Alexis, and his mother were waiting for him to come home. He needed to get to them, to tell them that he'd never meant to leave. All he wanted was to marry Kate and to love his family.

As Castle was pushed out of the tent he saw a dinghy tied at a dock nearby. He shoved his captors hard against the ground with more strength than he knew he possessed and began to run. He thanked God for summers spent on lakes with prep school buddies. He knew boats. When this one started with one pull, he was sure that he had finally caught a break. He cast off as fast as he could, heading out to sea. Three bullets penetrated the hull as the men on shore fired at him, but Castle kept going. After a couple of hours the engine sputtered to a halt as the fuel level reached zero. The boat drifted with the current. Castle had no idea where he was, no way to communicate, and no way to call for help. His break seemed a cruel hoax.

The boat had emergency stores of a day's worth of food and water. Castle made them stretch to three, but finally they were gone. There was nothing but the sun burning his skin in the daytime and the ocean breeze chilling his bones at night, with the precious images of Kate he held in his mind providing the only warmth. Finally, with "Kate" the last word on his lips, he fell into the merciful oblivion of unconsciousness.


End file.
